“It’s a cold afternoon in December 2012, just before the frost sets in. I open the backyard door and shake out a dusty rug, blinking into the white winter sunlight. At the edge of my vision, I catch an extra sparkle, watery and rhythmic – waves in a deep bucket.

A frog.

Skinny and golden, a small jewel set in dark blue plastic. I scoop the frog up and out of the icy water, its smooth, delicate body so light, I’m not sure it’s really there, nestling in my hand, exhausted yet fiercely alive. As if under a spell, I turn from the barren winter yard and step through the door with my treasure, knowing exactly what to do next. I’ve never looked back …”